The Naked One

Picture Credit: Ionas Nicolae

While my love dies I live in a recovery home two streets down, behind the holly. Mornings I hover over his sleep, blue bedclothes he will slip beyond. I weave forget-me-nots in my hair and wear paper crowns. When he disappears I am the naked one. Evenings are spent in anonymous candlelit projects, church basements; after prayers the circle opens and I’m free to look through wardrobes and bureaus of old clothes. In the dusty light I dress in velvet, fox and rabbit. A game, I’m all made-up; at the funeral, prewar lace with satin bow below my heart.

Ariel Dawn

About Ariel Dawn

Ariel Dawn is a poet and cartomancer living in Victoria, B.C. Her work appears most recently in Litro, Literati, Ink Sweat & Tears, dusie, Guest, talking about strawberries all the time, Coven Editions Grimoire and Train. She is working on a collection of poetry and prose inspired by tarot cards and folklore.

Ariel Dawn is a poet and cartomancer living in Victoria, B.C. Her work appears most recently in Litro, Literati, Ink Sweat & Tears, dusie, Guest, talking about strawberries all the time, Coven Editions Grimoire and Train. She is working on a collection of poetry and prose inspired by tarot cards and folklore.

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